Once upon a time
I dated an alcoholic.
I was young. He hid it well at the beginning ... or was it he slowly fell into it while I was with him.
It was a brutal time for me, trying to convince myself I was so in love with the stinking pile beside me in the bed.
He could never come during oral sex because he had lived with a gay guy who would do him that favour and it was better than any girl could ever perform.
I never knew when he was going to show up, drunk, and try to profess his love for me or make me drive him home, or terrorize me.
He raped me.
Finally I left him on the night he came to a dinner I was having with my boss and colleagues. He was completely drunk and made an idiot of himself and me. He punched the window out in his car. He kept telling me that he didn't deserve me. That night I locked myself in the bathroom to get away from him. He broke down the door to get in. I finally told him I was going to call the police and I actually ment it.
I later found out he had been cheating on me.
I moved to a different city and he got my number and called me obsessively, both drunk and sober. I finally unplugged my phone and only plugged it in when I needed to call someone.
He came to my house at Christmas to try and get me back.I run into him every few years back in my home town and I always think, "He is so short."
Why?
I forgot what the point of my story was.
He had a smell. A smell that I now associate with alcoholics. It isn't the beer smell, although I can't stand that smell on people's breath either. It is the smell of their bodies.
I once went on a date with a successful young lawyer. He had had one beer and that smell was coming out of his pores. I never saw him again.
I work at an establishment that has a lounge and while I don't work in it, I have to go through there. I can often smell that smell on some of the people in there. It is worrying to smell it on one of the workers there, but there is nothing I can do about it.
I can tell by nose if anyone has been drinking any quantity.
I don't trust alcohol.
I was young. He hid it well at the beginning ... or was it he slowly fell into it while I was with him.
It was a brutal time for me, trying to convince myself I was so in love with the stinking pile beside me in the bed.
He could never come during oral sex because he had lived with a gay guy who would do him that favour and it was better than any girl could ever perform.
I never knew when he was going to show up, drunk, and try to profess his love for me or make me drive him home, or terrorize me.
He raped me.
Finally I left him on the night he came to a dinner I was having with my boss and colleagues. He was completely drunk and made an idiot of himself and me. He punched the window out in his car. He kept telling me that he didn't deserve me. That night I locked myself in the bathroom to get away from him. He broke down the door to get in. I finally told him I was going to call the police and I actually ment it.
I later found out he had been cheating on me.
I moved to a different city and he got my number and called me obsessively, both drunk and sober. I finally unplugged my phone and only plugged it in when I needed to call someone.
He came to my house at Christmas to try and get me back.I run into him every few years back in my home town and I always think, "He is so short."
Why?
I forgot what the point of my story was.
He had a smell. A smell that I now associate with alcoholics. It isn't the beer smell, although I can't stand that smell on people's breath either. It is the smell of their bodies.
I once went on a date with a successful young lawyer. He had had one beer and that smell was coming out of his pores. I never saw him again.
I work at an establishment that has a lounge and while I don't work in it, I have to go through there. I can often smell that smell on some of the people in there. It is worrying to smell it on one of the workers there, but there is nothing I can do about it.
I can tell by nose if anyone has been drinking any quantity.
I don't trust alcohol.
posted by Muss at 12:32 pm
3 Comments:
ha! i'm with you on this. last time i got horribly drunk, i snogged a girl. i didn't even have the decency to enjoy it, so there you go.
Hmmm, ... a cute girl? Even completely out of it, how could you not enjoy it? Nevermind, I've been there I guess, but not with a girl. Unlucky me.
Last two times I was really out of it I went for girls. Ended up making out in the corner with two of them one time, shot down the second.
excellent.
Post a Comment
<< Home